Sunday Struggles

Today is Father's Day, and yet the only real emotion I have managed is frustrated anger. We went to a Minnesota Twins game last night to see an old friend. The game was good, except that the Twins lost, but we got home late. Because I had food at the game past 8 p.m., I stayed up until 11:15. When I finally took my Xyrem and went to bed, I was overly warm. My wife and I were intimate for a time, but things just were not right. Plus, the Xyrem can make me more than a little goofy. I did finally fall asleep. I even managed to take my second dose last night, although I once again slept through my alarm.

When I awoke, however, my wife was missing. Due to her discomfort, she was sleeping on the futon in our basement. I checked on her and returned to bed. I awoke this morning at 8 a.m. While I had rested, I already felt the stress of the day. I am behind at MITY (my wonderful gifted and talented students are producing at record levels this year), and there is far too much that needs to get done around our house. Unfortunately, between my exhaustion and the Twins game on Saturday, I got nothing done. Thus, I climbed out of bed already wondering how I would get to everything on my mental list.

My wife and daughter eventually got up too. They had planned to play some tennis before the day got warm. When they left, I decided to use the time to get in some exercise. I had only done a tiny amount on Saturday and am feeling worse about my physical condition than I did a week ago when I re-started my exercise. While the exercise went okay, I was trying new yoga poses in the end. Invariably, my wife and daughter arrived back home in the midst of that. My daughter immediately plunked down to "watch" since Wii can become a bit of a spectator sport. Although I was self-conscious, I refrained from saying anything. Then, as I began to attempt the final yoga pose - which I was incapable of performing - my wife also arrived. At she sat down, a chair we have owned for thirteen years suddenly lost a bolt. My wife began to let me know that I need to fix the chair when I got done with my exercising.

Sadly, I snapped at that point. Things only got worse when I realized that the bolt that came loose was in a ridiculously difficult area. It literally took me over 30 minutes to fix this one bolt. AND, when I finally set the chair upright, one of the two washers that HAD been on the bolt, once again fell to the floor. Somehow, I had managed to let that come off in my efforts. Needless to say, that final insult did little to dispel my rotten mood.

Of all of the things that have happened today, I am most upset about losing my cool with my wife. I know that no one was trying to make me feel bad or undermine my day, but I lashed out because I felt like that is exactly what was happening. And, of course, I have allowed the majority of the day to slip away because I have been wallowing. I also exhausted myself between the exercise and the (literal) wrestling with the broken chair.

Days like today are the ones that truly infuriate me in terms of my narcolepsy. Consciously, I know that I am wiped out because I am trying to do too much by teaching these two weeks at MITY. Yet, I still consciously and sub-consciously expect that I should also be able to do "normal" things during the weekend. Our house needs to be cleaned, our finances need updating, our windows need staining, and our office needs organization. Even though I literally can't do even one of these things, I feel like I should be able to do something. Worse, I know that my wife needs me to get to some of these things. The state of our house is weighing on her too. But, I am unable to do it. Thus, I get angry at myself for letting her down too.

Which brings me back to the fact that today is Father's Day. Instead of relaxing and celebrating with my family, I have yelled at the two people I love the most. I have also pouted because the day has not felt at all like "my day." Lastly, I don't even feel like I can make things much better right now because I can barely think straight. My body is tired, and my internal turmoil is paralyzing even the remote chance that I will get anything done - including the massive number of pieces from my students (which will only make me MORE stressed out tomorrow).

I know this day will pass. I know that tomorrow will be okay. I know that MITY will be fine and that the class is good. I know that my wife and daughter still love me. I know that my physical fitness will be what it will be. But, I can't feel it, and I hate that. Days like this are horribly bleak. Yes, I can (and likely will) get at least one thing done, but I won't even enjoy that. More than anything, I just wish in moments like this that nothing was "my responsibilty." I know that is an impossibility, but I feel overwhelmed by the frustration and sadness that I have once again "lost" a day (and a bit of my sanity) to this rotten disease.